I Became a M*rderer in the Academy

Thanks to Iria and Rena’s efforts, the first day’s sales ended successfully.

They wrapped up business even faster than planned due to running out of supplies. I decided I needed to prepare more ingredients starting from the second day.

The costs for setting up the booth on the first day were covered by funds from the Academy.

Since we started the business without any initial costs, the profits we made were quite impressive.

Rena used half of those profits to buy ingredients. It was a bold expense, but she didn’t hesitate. Given the situation on the first day, it was worth investing.

We had plenty of time, but not enough ingredients. If we had more, I believed we could have made even more profits.

And just like that, a day passed.

Preparation for the business starts early in the morning. We gather the purchased ingredients and move on to organizing the supplies and prepping the ingredients.

Iria was helping out smoothly with her exceptional strength when an uninvited guest showed up.

With blue hair and a sharp look, it was Wendy.

She wasn’t exactly a welcoming human, but I was curious as to why she came, so I let her in. Iria put down her load for a moment to greet the guest.

“What’s up?”

“What do you mean, what’s up? I’m a customer. Is that what you call your attitude? Can you get the owner?”

“We still have some time until opening hours.”

“Doesn’t really matter, right? I can do exactly what you did—where’s the problem?”

She had a point.

Iria called over Rena, the representative of the booth (also the owner).

This was a reversal of the situation we saw two days ago, where the customer and the owner had swapped roles. Rena felt a bit uneasy at that point because customers hold all the power in business.

Moreover, with the previous exploits of Iria in mind, she was even more on edge.

But it felt wrong to turn her away. After all, she had accepted them before. I thought of it as karma, and decided to endure it.

“Let her in. She has a point.”

“…………”

Iria put on a visibly displeased expression but did as Rena said.

I guided Wendy inside the store to an empty spot.

“Go sit over there.”

“Seriously, what kind of old-fashioned decor is this? Whose idea was it?”

“Just make your order.”

“Bring out your best seller or something.”

With her new customer status, Wendy seemed quite pleased. Was she still holding onto grudges from earlier? She seemed like someone who could hold a serious grudge.

But reality was different. While she pretended to be relaxed and was plotting some sort of revenge, she was actually on high alert.

Wendy, who typically wouldn’t care about those below her, had bothered to come here, which indicated that Class A’s booth had achieved something notable.

With that much attention, it surely meant something.

If another booth was doing suspiciously well, analyzing what caused it would be a good strategy.

Wendy sat down, paying attention to the booth’s ambiance, staff, and potential product value systematically.

She had an eye for figuring out what allowed a shop that seemed lackluster to make such revenue.

Wendy glanced at Iria while holding the menu and said,

“I heard the news. You guys are doing well, huh? Well, it’s just beginner’s luck, I guess, but today will be different. Unlike the first day, you should have a sense of where the booths are and what you have.”

“………”

“Well, no matter how hard you try, you guys won’t measure up to us anyway.”

On the first day, Class B had slightly higher profits compared to Class A.

But that was because Class A had to stop selling early due to running out of ingredients. If they had sufficient supplies, the rankings would have probably been reversed.

It seemed Wendy couldn’t shake off that point entirely; you could see her feeling a bit awkward after saying it herself.

Anyway, it was clear she was on guard. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have reacted like that.

She was sincerely analyzing why Class A had been successful.

It couldn’t just be attributed to ‘looks’; there had to be some other elements at play.

‘What makes it sell? There doesn’t seem to be anything particularly special yet.’

As Wendy pondered deeply, Iria served her the dish that was the star of Class A’s menu: Omurice.

It looked decent. The omelet elegantly enveloped the fried rice.

Given that it was a Maid Cafe, they didn’t forget the cute decorative touches. If they could display that level of skill, it was likely to taste good as well.

She took a spoonful and popped it in her mouth.

And then, slightly disappointed.

“Mmm.”

To be blunt, it was average food. It wasn’t bad; in fact, it was relatively good.

But compared to Class B’s offerings, it fell short. The food wasn’t bad, but it didn’t stand out compared to Class A’s results.

Wendy pointed that out, saying that they weren’t aiming for flavor.

“This is more ordinary than I thought. It’s not lacking in taste, but it doesn’t feel like a dish that represents the store. It’s like there’s no uniqueness to it? I feel like if you spent more time and effort, you could’ve made something better.”

“The chef’s just Rena. She said she only had one body to pour all her time and effort into every dish.”

“One person? But you guys had a ton of customers. She made all of that by herself?”

“No one else could cook.”

Making so much food alone was simply excessive. The lines at Class A’s booth were long enough that people had to wait to be served.

Whether it was even possible seemed questionable, but if it were true, then a decline in food quality was unavoidable.

There was an unimaginable amount of cooking for one person, and there wouldn’t be time to care for everything individually.

Wendy decided to adjust her evaluation of the dish a bit.

Given that context, just having a dish like this was impressive.

Rena’s skills were certainly noteworthy. Had there been no unpleasant matters between them, she would have been rated as too good to be in Class A.

It would have been nice if there was someone in Class B capable of handling that kind of workload alone as well.

With a tinge of regret, she asked for the next item.

“So? This isn’t all there is, right? What else do you have?”

“Our service is great!”

“Hm, show me.”

Iria poured ketchup all over Wendy’s head. She seemed to have gotten used to doing it and made it look cute.

Wendy froze in place, unable to move as the whole process was completed. They say people become calmer when they’re too flustered; this was one of those situations.

Blinking in confusion without understanding what was happening, she was stuck there.

Wendy’s blue hair turned a vivid shade of red. A tangy tomato smell filled the air.

“What… what are you doing…?”

“It’s service. Doing this helps sales.”

“?????”

“I’m serious.”

With Wendy displaying a face filled with questions, Iria stepped out for a moment as if to show something.

Before long, she returned with a customer.

She made it known that they could come in without waiting, and it surprisingly worked quickly.

Then, just like she did with Wendy, she dumped ketchup on the new person’s head.

After that, she lovingly stroked their hair to ensure it was evenly distributed.

“Happy?”

Iria said coldly, looking down at the customer.

Whether they were self-aware or not, her eyes were icy—even though they glowed red.

I had no idea what was great about looking down on someone, but apparently, it was to the liking of a certain few.

The act of stepping on her face that Iria often performed was also quite a polarizing action, yet no one complained.

That was because Iria read the room and easily gauged people’s tendencies. Such hospitality was only offered to those who seemed to enjoy it.

This time, Iria deliberately sought out someone to bring as a demonstration for Wendy.

The customer, happily, gave a thumbs up indicating satisfaction. Although, they didn’t offer to cover the cleaning cost.

“No way, this actually works?”

Wendy felt her previous understanding of common sense crumble.

To her, it looked like Iria had just gone outside, grabbed a random person, and dumped ketchup on their head right away.

She had so many questions about why they liked this, about Iria’s bizarre customer service attitude, but held her tongue.

She didn’t even know where to start. From beginning to end, it was all unknown and perplexing to her.

She didn’t even have the mental capacity to be angry about the ketchup on her head. Her mind was dizzy from witnessing the absurd sight.

“Yeah. You should give it a try too—at Class B’s booth.”

Could it be that she was unaware this was a trend?

Iria was dousing that customer’s face with ketchup as if it was the most normal thing in the world—like it was something she had done many times before.

Which meant she had probably done similar things to the majority of her customers.

So this was Class A’s secret to their business’s success; maybe ignorance would have been bliss.

Wendy narrowed her eyes and asked Iria again, wanting reassurance.

“…Do people really like this kind of thing?”

“If you pour it and then wipe it off with a napkin, they like it even more. See this?”

Iria wiped the ketchup-stained face with a napkin. Just as she said, it seemed the customer was reveling in that act alone.

To Wendy, who was a normal person, it looked absolutely insane.

“Just try it once, thinking of it as a gamble. You never know, sales might improve.”

“Hm…”

Without a doubt, the growth of Class A’s booth was terrifying.

They had narrowly lost the first day due to ingredient shortages, but who knows what would happen starting today.

If that outright bizarre act was actually attracting customers, it might be worth learning.

That day, at Class B’s booth, an incident occurred where Wendy doused a customer’s head with strawberry syrup, resulting in a sharp drop in sales.

*

After Wendy left, Iria sought out Rena to report her actions.

“I just eliminated a competitor.”

“What? How?”

“………”

It was too complicated to explain it with words.

I just kind of brushed through it, saying that something had happened.

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